


Between the Lines and Ink

by Devrius



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:42:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devrius/pseuds/Devrius
Summary: What happens when you wake up, without any memories?What happens when you wake up again after dying?What happens when you have to choose a side?Join us and travel about Joey Drew studios! Meet a cast of creative and unique characters, while She just tries to survive long enough to figure out what in the high heavens is going on.(I have no idea what I’m doing right now, I’m tired and can’t sleep so this is coming out.)
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, I have really no idea what I'm doing right now, so if this turns out to be a mess. Just know, I will eventually fix it.

It was dim and damp, the (probably) old light bulbs flickering every now and then. It was silent besides for the occasional echoed drip, the source never to be found in the winding and seemingly unending halls. 

“Sheep, sheep, sleep,” A quiet feminie voice sang, over and over and over again as she wandered aimlessly through the unending halls. She wasn't looking for anything in particular, no, more like she was hoping something was looking for her. What or who? She had no clue. It’s not like she’d ever seen anyone besides the sheep dude. She was just hoping she’d somehow figure out what was happening, she may have no prior memoires to this place, but she knew something was wrong, so what in the high heavens was it?

“Sheep, sheep, sheep, it’s time for sleep.” A male’s voice echoed down a just-passed hall, “Rest your head.” She followed the voice, it was a semi-normality to hear this person and try to find him. She’d only had a brief one sided conversation with him, once, it had left her heavily confused. But it was fun, having some kind of purpose and having a set goal in front of herself.

“In the morning you may wake, or in the morning, you’ll be dead.” He was at the end of the hall, his back to her. He was putting up one of those thingies again, what were they? They were all over the place. On the walls, on the thingies she ate, those big things that sheep dude was constantly putting up. So what were they? Did they have a meaning? Were they someone? He was still repeating the phrase over and over, unaware of her closing in on him, she walked quietly and slowly, she could probably touch him if she lunged forward now, so she stopped. No need to repeat last time. 

She took a few steps back, if she could reach him, he could reach her, he did have a sharp thing that hurt a lot after all. 

“Sheep,” She started, not missing how the sheep dude tensed, “Go to sleep?” He turned around, the sharp thing in hand, up and ready to strike. So like any sane person wouldn’t do, she lunged at him, as he took a step forward, sending them both to the floor, right in front of the thing he had just placed.

“Sheep!” She yelled pulling the sharp thing out of his grip and throwing it as far as she could down the hallway she’d come from. It landed somewhere and echoed about. Her gaze never leaving sheep dude. He wore something on his head that looked like the top of the thing he’d just placed. Her head tilted to the side as she tried to figure out the significance of this damn thing the sheep man was obsessed with. Wait,

“Sheep?” She pointed to the thing he wore on his head.

“What?” He rasped, making no sudden moves, “I am not a sheep.” She just shook her head, how to explain, how to explain, how to explain? That’s how.

“Sheep?” She pointed at the thing in front of them, sheep dude tensed up.

“H-how do you not know?” Sheep dude asked in a near whisper, she just shrugged.

“You, I saw you form from the ink-” 

“I-nk?” She repeated, once again heavily confused, what was with this guy and confusing her, what in the high heavens is Ink?? She made an odd sound in her throat, shaking her head as she finally got off the dude. Her head was starting to hurt, time to go find a nice dark area to sleep in. She made it three steps before being grabbed by the arm.

“W-wait!” His arm was black like the rest of his seeable body, he dripped the familiar black that was everywhere. She hissed at him. He didn't let go.

“Come with me,” She growled, waking away, sheep dude still not letting go. Better let go, else I’m taking your arm with me. 

Where are you going?” She forced a yawn, trying to tug her arm out of his grip, he can be strong when he wants to be it seems.

“Come now little sheep, I have a place where you can sleep.” She yanked her arm away from him, well tried to. She had a place to sleep, a nice dark, quiet, warm place to sleep. She didn’t want him coming to it either, doubt he could come really. But she still didn’t want him anywhere near her safe spot, she’s met him twice! She let out a growl, once again trying to get his grip off her.

“Do you perhaps have a place in mind?” She sighed, grabbing the sharp thing as she passed it. Worst comes to worst she’ll just chop his arm off. He went oddly quiet after that, the entire awkward walk was silent, then they reached a large black flooded hallway, it will do. It’s not home, but it will do. He finally let go.

“I-I can’t go in the ink.” he said, with a shrug she threw the sharp thing in and jumped in herself. Laying down so that the black covered her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what I'm doing for the next few chapters, just not this one,   
> please just bear with my pea-brain.  
> Thanks.

She sat up with a yawn, sleeping in the black stuff always sucked, it left her feeling cold. But she was not about to bring the sheep dude to her home. With a quiet sigh she felt around for the sharp thing, finding it she stood up and turned to leave the way she came, she found Sheep dude sitting there watching her.

“Interesting, you retained your form,” She let out a choked sound, bringing the sharp thing into a swinging position, “How do you do that?” She tilted her head to the side, the tip of her tongue sticking out.

“You, have no idea what I’m saying do you?” She stuck her tongue fully out, making a fart like noise as she finally climbed out of the black.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She once again made the fart sound.

“How old are you? Seven?” She shrugged, shaking off what she could of the blackness.

“Go, home.” She sighed, lightly swinging the sharp thing about.

“You shouldn't handle that like that.” She brought the thing up to her shoulder, giving it a shake

“Sharp thing.” 

“Axe,” He said, reaching a hand out for the apparent axe, it was quickly and violently swatted away.

“Sharp thing,” She shook her head, giving the axe another little shake.

“No, it’s an axe.” She groaned, walking away.

“Where are you going?”

“Ho-m-e!” She squeaked.

“This-this is not your home?” She stopped dead in her tracks looking at him with dead eyes. 

“N-o.”

“You do understand me.” He said moving his arms about as he stood up to follow her

“Dum, weir-o” She mumbled, as she shook her head, returning to walking.

“Excuse me!?”

“I, sharp thing.” She lifted the axe above her head, shaking it again, sheep dude fell silent as he followed her through the halls

He wasn't going to leave her alone was he? Why couldn’t he just get tired and go back to putting up his giant weird thingies? She wanted to go cuddle up in her home, to get warm and cozy. To feel like she had some control in her existence. But she couldn’t do that with Sheep dude following her. He wants something, and probably won’t go away until he gets it, time to get this over with. 

She stopped moving to the side she made a gesture for sheep dude to lead, they stood in silence for a long moment before he took the lead, leading them towards the area full of items that made odd and pretty sounds.


	3. Chapter 3

She was wandering around Sheep or Sammy, as most of the others called him, area. He was on the odder side of reality she had learned, but apparently all artists were like that. She was wandering around the area next to Sheep’s ‘sanctuary’, messing around with the piano, when she heard something between tapping and a thud, it was similar to when she and Sheep walked. But her steps were quiet and Sheep’s sounded wet and squishy, kind of like a wet fart, so it couldn’t be footsteps right? The sound started and stopped echoing about getting gradually getting louder as she hit random piano keys

“Hello?” She stopped dead in her tracks, her head whipping towards the door. The voice was worn and slightly hoarse. An older man was staring her down wide eyed, she was probably doing the same. He was covered in black, in ink, he also held an axe. She screeched, throwing herself away from the piano and towards her own axe that sat somewhere behind her.

“It-it’s alright! I won’t hurt you!” The man tried to yell over her screeching as she grabbed her axe, getting ready to throw it at him.

“Whoa! Whoa, it’s ok,” She raised the axe higher, a low rumble building in her chest while the man slowly put his axe down, “See, I’m putting down the axe. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Sheep was right?” She asked, the arm holding the axe falling to her side, swinging back and forth, a mix between a groan and sigh leaving her.

“What?” The poor man’s face and voice were laced with utter confusion as she came closer, picking up his ink covered axe, unlike her’s which was near clean.

“It’s not a Sharp thing?” She shook the two axe’s slightly.

“Th-there technically sharp things, but they’re called axe’s,” The man said, gesturing towards the axe’s.

“Dang nabbit,”

“I-I’m Henry, who are you?” Henry brought a hand to his chest, the other was outstretched to her.

“Me?” She placed his axe in the outstretched hand, “I’m just me.”

“What’s your name?” Henry said with something between a cough and airy laugh.

“I don’t have one of those, not many down here really do,” She shrugged at Henry's slightly opened mouth, “Not officially at least.”

“What's your unofficial name then?” Henry smiled, “You, don’t have one do you?” His smile dropped something she couldn’t recognize in his eyes.

“Is there anything you’d want to go by?” 

“Well, lookie here gang, I think we’ve got ourselves a cookie.” A higher pitched male sounding voice said with a laugh from seemingly nowhere. She looked around the room, finding no one but Henry.

“You ok there-?” Henry started, she interrupted.

“Cookie!” She yelled, “Call me Cookie.” Henry gave another odd mix between a cough and airy laugh. Was that normal for him? Should she go get Sheep? Would Sheep know anything about this?

“You like cookies I’m guessing?” Henry said, bringing her out of her thoughts.

“Nope! I have no idea what cookies are.” She shrugged.

“Wha, then why?”

“Someone called me a it once,” She brought a hand to her neck, “I think.”

“You think?”

“I don’t remember anything else,” She shrugged again, her face heating up a bit.

“Did you hit your head?”

“No,” She shook her head, “I just woke up here one day.”

“H-how long have you been down here?”

“Days? Years? Months?” She started counting on her fingers, quickly giving up, “I don’t know.”

“Time is, odd, here.”

“Guess you’re right about that,” Henry said, something dark and heavy seeping into his voice. She knew that tone, that’s the same tone Sheep uses when she says something that she shouldn’t know. Of course she doesn't know what any of it means, or why she shouldn’t know it but, oh well. Wait, that means Henry, whatever he is, knows stuff. Maybe she could get some info out of him, since Sheep is so determined to keep her in the dark about most things. She’d have to be careful though, she had a good guess where all that ink had come from on him, after all it’s hard to get a hand print of ink on your face when your hands are clean of ink, unless a searcher was involved.


End file.
